Match of the Century
by Sub-Zero MKA
Summary: When Natasha Romanoff joins the team to aid them with a mission, Ward plans to incite what he feels would be the fight for the ages: May vs Romanoff!
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**__ For those of you who follow me know that I've been including the AoS gang in the past few stories I've written. I love the show and wanted to start writing fics about it. This is my first Agents of SHIELD fic, so please enjoy and review :)_

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_**Match of the Century**_

There were days in every person's life where opportunities came up that just couldn't have been ignored. They were the kind that couldn't fail, that were almost a 100% guarantee to payoff.

"This must happen."

Today was such a day for Agent Grant Ward. A day where the map to a gold mine was just placed in his lap. And there was absolutely no way he was letting that treasure go unmined, so to speak.

The opportunity was too perfect in Ward's mind to let pass.

A few minutes ago, Coulson informed the team that Agent Natasha Romanoff was going to be boarding the bus the next day to aid them with an upcoming mission. Out of everyone, Ward and Fitz were perhaps the most excited. Fitz because Romanoff was the "prettiest woman I've ever seen". Simmons wasn't too keen on that comment. It was about to be a long day for the junior agent.

Ward, on the other hand, was excited for a radically different reason.

He, like everyone else at SHIELD, had heard of Natasha's hand to hand skills. He had seen them first hand while reviewing footage of the Battle of Manhattan. He had even faced them first hand and had gotten his butt kicked in quick order. Her skills had quickly become legend, and that had only grown in the months since the Battle of Manhattan. She was called the 1B best combat expert in SHIELD.

Melinda May was the legend that she was often compared to, for good reason. Melinda May was 1A. Ward had also heard and seen May's hand to hand skills in action on numerous occasions since joining the team. He had even faced them first hand and base gotten his butt kicked in quick order.

There was a common denominator between these two, and it wasn't giving him a butt kicking. They were the two best fighters in the whole organisation and they were going to be in the same place at the same time. It was a fight that needed to happen.

"What must happen?"

Ward quickly spun around to found Coulson staring him down with a bemused frown. "Nothing," he answered quickly. Coulson didn't appear to buy it. "Fine. Romanoff is going to be here to help with a mission. I just thought it'd be cool if she and May fought. Just once."

Coulson considered him for an uncomfortable moment before smiling. "That would be nice."

Ward sighed with relief. With Coulson on his side, nothing could stop him from inciting the greatest martial arts fight since Bruce Lee vs Chuck Norris. "Glad you're with me on this, boss. I just need to figure out how to get them to actually do it."

"Just ask them," he suggested as he turned to leave. "They're a match made in heaven."

Coulson walked out leaving Ward bemused and perplexed. He shrugged and quickly left toward the cockpit. Whatever he meant, it wasn't important. What was important was planting the seeds within May early. That way, she'd already be thinking about it when Romanoff arrived the next day.

He crept through the halls quietly. No one needed to know of his mission, lest they figure it out and tip one of them off.

When he arrived at the cockpit door, he knocked twice, just loud enough for her to hear him coming in. "Hi, May," he greeted in a friendly tone. Predictably, she only grunted in reply. "So, how's it going?"

She grunted again. "Fine," she added tersely. "Throttle is sticking a little."

It amazed him every time that she could say so much in so little words. Nodding, he slipped into the co-pilot's seat. "Sure the techs can fix that." She hummed softly. "So, you know Romanoff is coming by tomorrow." A statement, not a question.

She hummed again. Ward also noticed that her grip on the steering wheel faltered for a scant moment. The reaction he was hoping to see.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing her again, you know."

"Seeing her, or staring at her?"

Ward rolled his eyes at her smirk. "I'm not a pervert, unlike Fitz. Anyway, I'm looking forward to seeing her again because she beat me the last time we spared. I'm sure she cheated, but I'm still jonesing for a rematch. They say she's the best."

May's jaw tightened slightly, and then relaxed.

May had an ego like everyone else, it seemed. She didn't seem to like having been replaced from the top of the fighting food chain, no matter what she said. "That's what I heard," she replied.

"I don't believe it, though. I've fought against the both of you. I can say with total confidence that you're the best." He smiled and patted her on the arm.

She looked down at his hand, and then at him. "You trying to get laid?"

"No, of course not! Just giving props where they're due." She observed him for a little while longer before nodding. "And for the record, if you two fought for some reason, you'd totally win."

May smirked and breathed out a soft chuckle. "Maybe."

"More like definitely. She's all flash, no substance. Lots of flips and jumping and all that garbage. You've got real skills."

A ghost of a smile appeared across her otherwise stern face. _Too easy,_ he thought. It should have been a crime to be this good at manipulating people. He was called arrogant. It was hard to be humble when he was _this_ damn good. "Well, I won't hold you up any longer. See ya around, Melinda," he said, referring to her by her first name to solidify the pretense of a friendly conversation.

"Goodbye, Grant."

The look on her face as he left could only be described as her having thoroughly enjoyed having her ego stroked. He couldn't blame her; he also enjoyed a good stroking. Of his ego, that was.

At any rate, she heard what he said, and appeared to believe it. "Phase one is complete," he muttered once alone. He rubbed his hands together and thought ahead to tomorrow. Natasha would be there, and then it would be the same thing. Butter her up and get her ego so inflated that she just had to go and fight May. And he would be right there to watch.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait, guys. Just had trouble getting this one down on paper, so to speak. But here it is. Enjoy! Also, thanks a lot for all the reviews, follows and favorites. They're all very appreciated._

Ward awoke bright and early the next morning. Actually, he woke up fifteen minutes before his usual alarm went off. There was no way he was going to risk oversleeping. Not on a day as important as this one. He very hurriedly showered, shaved and dressed in the clothes he prepared the night before, a black T-shirt with a pair of blue jeans and simple sneakers.

When he emerged from his quarters, he overheard Fitzsimmons arguing from down the hall. "If you love her so much, just propose to her!"

"I don't love her! I just said she was amazing at what she does!"

Ward rolled his eyes and easily resisted the urge to get involved. If those science babies couldn't see what was right in front of them, that being each other, he certainly wasn't going to help them. He didn't get paid to point out the obvious. He got paid to incite the greatest fight in SHIELD history.

Okay, that wasn't exactly true, but he was more than willing to work pro bono on this one. "Then stop bloody fawning over her like some bleeding schoolboy! Ward!"

_Crap._ He was completely passed the room and almost halfway to Coulson's office when Simmons cried after him. He sighed and turned on his heels. "What is it Simmons? I'm really busy this morning."

"Then tell Fitz to stop drooling over Agent Romanoff!"

He held back an eye roll and sighed heavily. As he leveled a look toward Fitz, the disgruntled scientists were glaring unmercifully at each other. "I am _not_ drooling. Is it so wrong to compliment a competent person, who just so happens to the most beautiful person I've ever seen?"

"Oh, so now I'm incompetent?!"

"What? How could you possibly come to that conclusion?"

"You almost never compliment me on anything! I work and work and do wonderful things and you never say how pretty I am!"

Fitz scoffed. "Oh, that's absurd. Of course I do."

_God, someone help me!_ Ward watched helplessly as the two argued incoherently. His head was already pounding after only five minutes.

"No you don't! You never say I'm amazing at what I do who happens to be the just so happens to be the most beautiful woman you've ever seen!"

Fitz was awkward and a little less than a genius around women, but even he knew to tread carefully. "I… uh, you…"

As Fitz stammered toward some kind not explanation, Ward snuck out and strode quietly toward Coulson's office. By the current sound of Simmons raging, Fitz must have said the wrong thing. Ward sighed and moved on to contemplating his strategy. If he heard correctly, Agent Romanoff should have already been in Coulson's office, going over mission specs.

Ward knew that Romanoff was next to impossible to manipulate, unlike the preposterously easy Melinda May. Ward smirked as he thought back to how easily he wrapped the Calvary around his pinkie finger.

Anyway, Romanoff apparently had much more savvy than May, so he'd actually have to work for this. With that in mind, he knocked on Coulson's door. "Come in."

He opened the door and was immediately scanned by the most intimidating five foot three woman in the world. Her emerald orbs swept over ever square inch of his person, even under his clothes. "Ward," she said after looking him over and sizing him up.

"Romanoff. Glad to have you aboard."

"Good to be here. When Fury told me Coulson needed my help, I had to come. If only to give him a few lumps."

Coulson's face said it all. "I was ordered not to tell," he muttered while placing an ice pack on his arm. There was a crash from down the hall. Coulson sighed and stood from his desk. "I'd better handle that. Fitzsimmons?"

Ward nodded knowingly. He didn't envy that headache. Once Coulson stepped out, he was alone with his target. _Phase Two is underway._

A soft clink from across the room attracted his attention to her pulling a bottle of Scotch from Coulson's liquor cabinet. His forbidden liquor cabinet. "Little early to be drinking, eh, Stark?"

A small smirk turned her rose red lips upward. "Nip to take the edge off. Been flying all night." She tilted the bottle in his direction. He declined. Shrugging, she poured herself a drink. "Nice plane you got here. Fury must be getting soft."

After what Coulson said after Fury tore him a new one when they blew a hole in it after just two weeks, maybe not. "Wouldn't count on it. Not sure he even has a soft side; just a slightly less rough side. Like gravel as opposed to sandpaper." He laughed. Comfortableness was crucial to manipulation. If the person wasn't relaxed around you, forget it. "So, I see life with Stark is rubbing off well."

She smirked again. "Maybe. He's… not nearly as bad as people make him out to be."

"Rough outside, soft, gooey inside?"

She nodded and took a sip. "Didn't believe Potts when she said as such, but I saw it when he gave me and Clint a place to stay, new weapons, better uniforms."

Ward nodded. "He's still an ass." There was another crash and more yelling. Ward sighed.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Fitzsimmons throwing some kind of tantrum?"

"No. They're arguing. And they're two people. In love. But they don't know that."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I hate people like that."

"Really," he said incredulously. "Because I was about to say that they remind me of you and Barton." She rose her opposite eyebrow. "Two people obviously in love, but either don't know it or won't admit it. It's both hilarious and frustrating to watch."

Another sip. Then a complete subject change so smoothly done, he didn't catch it at first. "I was talking to May when I boarded this morning."

Ward kept up his calm, relaxed demeanor like a boss. "Oh, yeah? Figured you two would have a bit in common."

"You'd be right. She was already well retired when I came on, but after Phil introduced us, she gave me some advice. And she was one of the first to vouch for me."

"Quite a bit of trust. She doesn't give it out easily." Ward relaxed and slowly tapped the model plan suspended from the ceiling. "She was right on."

A small nod of acknowledgement proceeded another sip.

"I'm glad she's back in the field. It's been a treat watching her work. Watching her fight." Natasha sniffed. Ward resisted the smirk that was fighting with his blank expression. He won out and added, "The way she can clean out a room without breaking a sweat is… breathtaking."

Natasha hummed in agreement.

Ward decided that laying on the praise thick would clue her in too quickly. "Oh, I was talking with Coulson and he was telling me about the time you beat an entire room full of people while tied to a chair." He read that in a mission file. Each word rolled out as smoothly as silk. "Guess that's one thing you two have in common."

She smiled. "Guess so."

_That's right. Walk right into my web._ "Another thing; I think you two are on the same black belt level, speaking of fighting,"

"I think you're right. I haven't had a decent sparring partner in a while. Maybe I'll tap her."

It was one thing to try and direct her in the direction he wanted to her in. It was another to lead her to water and have her drink willingly, so to speak. "Do that, please. It'd be nice. Well, I'd better grab a bite. See ya around." _Too freaking easy._

He turned to leave, so Natasha missed his knowing smirk. _Sucker, _he thought of her as he left.

He turned to leave, so he missed Natasha's knowing smirk. _Fool,_ she thought of him as he left.

He was so intent on food and inward gloating that he didn't see Melinda standing off to the side out of his peripheral vision, knowing smirk placed firm. "Idiot," she uttered once he was out of ear shot.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the huge delay, guys. Had a hard time with how to finish this, but I have it now.

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Two days later, the mission went better that expected. In reality, they didn't even need Natasha to give what little help she provided. Of course, May had a lot to do with that. Ward learned some time ago that that woman was a one woman army when she set her mind to it. But today, against dozens of AIM soldiers, she was unstoppable.

No one could lay a finger on her, much less a fist or any kind of weapon fire. She dipped, ducked and dodged around multiple people at once, dismantled heavily armed people easily twice her size with ease, and cleared out entire rooms full of people by herself in minutes. With nothing but her hands and feet, no less.

Ward and the team, having seen this act many times before weren't phased. Natasha, on the other hand, hadn't ever seen another woman, other than herself, blow through entire armies solo. "Good job, May," she said when they returned to the Bus.

Ward smirked upon hearing that. It was only a matter of time. Only a matter of time before Romanoff approached May with intentions of a friendly spar. A spar between two people with the sheer, inconspicuous egos like they had would undoubtedly turn in a full out brawl. And he had every intention of watching every second of it. Not up close, obviously. Him being there at the exact moment they decided to fight would give him away.

He had a plan. Quickly, he rushed to his bunk and closed the door behind him. He reached down by his bed and pulled out a small device. It was a video bug, something Fitz made for him one mission that connected to security cameras and stream the feed directly to his phone and tablet. "This should do."

All he had to do was connect it to the security feed in the gym and he was set. He hurried out of his bunk and rushed toward the gym. In such a hurry was he that the didn't see Romanoff standing off to the side. She narrowed her eyes. _I know what you're planning, Ward._

She was a pro at reading people from even the most subtle of movements. A smirk after she told May that she did a good job gave him away. Well, not exactly; but his behavior when they were near each other and talking about their techniques certainly did. She knew why. He was young, and all he had heard during his combat training were stories about The Cavalry and her fighting prowess. She would know; that was all Clint and Coulson talked about she first arrived at SHIELD, even going as far as to compare the two and call her the next May.

It was a lot of pressure for someone not even out of their twenties yet. She could empathize with him in wanting to see two best fighters at SHIELD fight; it was what she wanted in seeing May and Coulson, back when Coulson actually bothered to fight. His still did, but not as much.

Yep, she could empathize with Ward. It was too bad that she had to kick his ass for trying to manipulate her. Nodding, she started toward the gym to catch him in the act. "A-a-agent Romanoff?"

She mentally sighed and rolled her eyes. Agent Fitz, the young baby faced engineer who couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He was cute, in a schoolboy type of way. She would have indulged him, just for her own amusement, but she really didn't feel like seeing Simmons look at her. It was supposed to be a glare, but there was no way _anyone_ could have been intimidated by it. A newborn would have laughed its ass off.

"Yes, Agent Fitz?" she said, stifling the laugh that was bubbling up from thinking about Simmons' lame glare.

He sighed dreamily. She followed his eyes and determined that he was swapping between staring at her lips and her boobs. Thank God Clint wasn't here, or else the kid would have had an arrow in his knee days ago. "Wow, you're pretty,"

_Christ._

"Um, ahem. I-I-I wrote you a poem. Would you like to hear it."

"Sure." _I could use a laugh_.

He smiled and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. He cleared his throat. "Natasha. N is for –"

"LEO FITZ! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Jemma Simmons stormed out of the lab and stamped toward them. There it was, that pathetic glare that she kept throwing her way. She had to give her credit, a lot of people wouldn't have had the balls to glare at her, which was why she didn't give her the Widow Glare™.

"God, Jemma, leave me alone!"

"No! First you dream about her in your sleep, now you're writing her poetry?!"

"Stop it! You're embarrassing me in front of Natasha!"

_Natasha?_

"Oh, it's Natasha, now? Why don't you must marry her then?!"

"Oh I will. Because there is no way she'll be able to resist me once she hears this." He waved his poetic masterpiece in her face, smugness etched all over him. Jemma narrowed her eyes and snatched it out of his hand. "Hey, give that back!" Leo grabbed for it, but Jemma held it out of his reach. "Give it!"

"Came and take it!" Jemma took off running down the hall, with Leo hot on her heels.

Natasha blinked and watched them gallop away like s pair of hyperactive three year olds. "What the hell just happened?" She shook her head and continued down to the gym. If she hurried, she may have been able to catch Ward before he got away. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of May following her. She smirked. Looked like she wanted a piece of him too.

* * *

Ward had to spend the last five minutes looking for the security camera. Damn Fitz; why did he have to make everything so sleek and hard to find? He eventually found it and hopped atop a chair under it and attached the video bug to the feed wire. He then pulled out his phone and checked the stream. Perfect; it was clear and crisp and gave him a full view of the gym. "Muahahahaha! With this video bug, I'll be able to use the security camera in the gym to watch May and Romanoff fight grin the safety and comfort of my bed. Muahahahahahahahaha! It will only be a matter of time before those fools do battle, since my keen manipulation skills have tickled their egos to the point of madness!"

Why he felt the need to delve into a cliché villainous monologue when he should have been getting his ass the hell out of dodge was anyone's guess.

"Now, to return to my… shit." He sadly stepped off the chair when he saw May and Romanoff standing in the doorway. "Um, hi, guys. How… how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," May replied with an unamused smile. Natasha matched it with her own dangerous smirk that made tough guys like Barton shake in their boots. He nearly soiled himself just looking at her.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" May nodded slowly and approached. "Please, not the face, not in the face!"

* * *

May watched Coulson drag an unconscious Ward to the med-bay. "The nerve of that guy," she said with a chuckle. Natasha hummed in agreement. "Thinking he could actually con us into fighting."

"Why waste his time? It should have been obvious." May's back was turned, so she missed the smug grin touching Natasha's lips.

May wasn't stupid. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Coulson told me that you've lost a step since the old days."

_Coulson said what?!_ May didn't respond.

"He also said that your old. Really old. Like, super fucking old. Old May."

May's jaw tightened before she whipped around, sending a roundhouse kick toward Natasha's head. A wide-eyed Natasha barely managed to duck out of the way. "I'm old, hmm?" Another roundhouse, followed smoothly by a high heel kick had Natasha back on her heels. "Coulson knows better."

Natasha blocked a pair of quick jabs before returning with her own two jab combo. "That's between you two." Natasha backflipped over an attempted leg sweep and spun around into a side kick that was barely blocked. "It's not my fault he thinks you're old and slow."

May grimaced and parried the flurry of quick jabs and hooks that Natasha snapped off in quick succession. After the last one, she trapped Natasha's arm between hers and her side and laid a few heavy punches to her face and chest. Drips of blood fell from the redhead's nose, forcing her to break away and retreat to assess the damage. It wasn't serious, but first blood had been drawn. Shit was about to get real.

Natasha said nothing and launched herself into a full sprint toward May. She lunged fist first, but was met with May's forearm as she parried. She managed to block May's retaliatory elbow strike, and the two fell into a furious frenzy of well-timed strikes and parries. For every kick May delivered on time and on point, Natasha had the perfect counter. Every laser accurate jab that Natasha threw, May was more than ready to block it.

Natasha ducked down under a roundhouse and swept May's legs from under her. The older woman tried to kick back up, but there Russian kneed her in there chest just as she rose up. Melinda coughed and spat up a small bit of blood. Natasha smiled, but didn't back off. She threw another knee, this one for her face, but it was caught and she fell forward, suddenly trapped in a leg lock. May locked it in, applying as much pressure as she could. Natasha grinded her teeth to stop from screaming out as much as her knee was.

On her stomach, she couldn't punch her away out, so she slammed her foot down on any part of May that she could reach. Arms, thigh, even once in the chest, wherever her leg could hit, she struck down with as much strength as possible. May yelled out after a third knick to her arm and let go. Natasha rolled to her feet, but the damage done was immediately evident. Any little amount of pressure placed on her left leg nearly made her knee buckle. "Shit."

"Old." May surged forward, Natasha's injured leg luring her in like blood to a launched a relentless volley of rabbit punches and low kicks. Her intention wasn't to hit her same knock her out, which she could have done easily now with her bad leg; it was to make her give up. She started it, she was going to learn the hard way why no one talked shit about The Cavalry.

Natasha backed off and threw a medium kick, planting on her good leg. Melinda noticed this and sacrificed her own rib cage to catch and trap her bad leg again. Natasha yelped and frantically ripped herself from her grip. She couldn't risk getting caught in another leg lock; but then, she could plant on that leg ton throw a kick with her good leg and risk her knee giving out.

Screw it.

She ran forward as quickly as she could and threw a high right kick. May predictably dodged, just as she wanted. She didn't notice that it was a feint until Natasha continued with her momentum and spun around into a back heel kick. It caught Melinda on the chin, dropping her like a ton of bricks. She wasn't out, but she was seeing three of everything.

Her chin was stinging, her head pounding and the distinct taste of wet copper was filling her mouth. Her ribs her screaming at her and her arms were killing her from blocking so many kicks. She wasn't going to give up. She struggled to her feet, gritting her teeth as she swallowed the pain from woozy vision.

Natasha, besides her knee and bruised arms, was still in good shape. It was that most of her offense needed a strong base to be effective. Her flips, twirls and spins were ineffective if she was too hobbled in one leg. Despite that, she wasn't going to give up. Because that was exactly what Melinda wanted, to make her tap out. Well, it wasn't going to happen.

Melinda shook her head and managed to straighten her vision out enough to charge at Natasha full speed. Natasha growled and charged at Melinda as quickly as her knee would allow. She eased up just enough for her to launch her foot upward toward where Melinda's chin would be. Melinda, at the same time, eased up just enough to snap of a kick where Natasha's head would be.

* * *

From within the safety and comfort of his office, Phil smiled. His plan had worked to absolute perfection. All it took was goading Ward into doing all the hard work, and then a seemingly offhand comment to Romanoff about Melinda seeming slower than usual, despite him seeing otherwise. It was risky, but it paid off. Yes, he'd pay for calling May old behind her back much worse than Ward did, but after seeing this fight, in glorious HD, he determined that it was way worth the months long coma Melinda was going to beat him into.

Everything was worth seeing the match of the century.


End file.
